


I'll Carry You

by theslashbunny (theplotbunny)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Superstition, Wedding superstitions, Wedding traditions, Weddings? I love weddings!, Western folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4217211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplotbunny/pseuds/theslashbunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The groom carries the bride across the threshold to bravely protect her from evil spirits lurking below."</p>
<p>Sam and Dean fight about who's the one carrying and who's the one being carried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Carry You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloexbrosluvr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloexbrosluvr/gifts).



> Originally written to fill a prompt over at the Let's Get Gay Married comment fic meme on Livejournal, June 27, 2011. The prompt was "Wedding Traditions & Superstitions #4. The groom carries the bride across the threshold to bravely protect her from evil spirits lurking below" as requested by cloex_brosluvr. Finally posted here in honor of the SCOTUS decision released on 6/26/2015.

This wasn't happening. There was no way they were having this conversation.

"Come on, do you really want to jinx us?" Okay, he had a point. Their luck was shitty enough already - they really didn't need to tempt Fate today of all days. But seriously?!

"Dude, you are _not_ carrying me." He had to put his foot down on this one. "If this happens, _I_ am carrying _you_."

That got him a bitchface. Big surprise.

"What? Why?"

"I'm older." Okay, maybe not the best reason in the world, but it had to count for something. It was his job to protect Sammy. The groom carrying the bride was a ritual for protection. Therefore, it was also Dean’s job to carry him over the threshold. Though, saying that out loud would only get him _another_ bitchface and open up an argument that had been worn out years ago.

"So? I'm taller. It'd be easier for _me_ to carry _you_." Okay, Sasquatch did have a point. But still - no fucking way was his little brother carrying him over the threshold after their wedding. ... There was just so much wrong with this whole situation that Dean didn't even know where to start.

Yes, he was happy with Sam. Yes, he was happy that they'd made it official - well, sort of, since if the state knew they were related it'd be made _un_ official real fast. But it gave their relationship a sense of normalcy that Sam wanted and that Dean (if he was being honest with himself and he hated to do that) needed. And it felt good to know that, even if the last names weren't right, there was a legal document stating that Sam and Dean were legally (again, close enough) wed.

And - being them - they'd taken every precaution. Among other things, they'd married on a Wednesday and scattered the floor with frankincense, cumin and salt (which the minister had _not_ been pleased about). They'd worn boutonnieres made of sacred herbs, and had eaten cake flavored with cyclamen and anise for protection. They had even inscribed protective sigils into their wedding bands.

The threshold thing was the last ritual Sam had included in their To-Do list for not getting cursed on their wedding day. It was the only thing they had left to do after the ceremony. And it was proving to be a bitch.

"Dammit, Sam. You are _not_ carrying me over the threshold." Dean was seriously starting to wonder how long they were going to be standing outside their surprisingly classy-looking motel room (they’d splurged on a bridal suite with a hot tub), arguing while there was honeymoon sex to be had. If they even had it, since Sam was being so pissy. His husband – using that word even in his head made Dean happier than he’d admit to anyone but Sam and probably only when drunk – crossed his arms over his chest, looking stubborn and smug at the same infuriating time.

“Give me one good reason – other than age – why you should do the carrying.” Shit. He could argue that Sam was the girl, but that would mean he’d be sleeping on the couch during his honeymoon. Dean could admit to himself that he didn’t really have a reason that Sam would acknowledge as “good”. Well, other than pride and his deep-seated need to protect Sam, which were good enough reasons for him. But really, his pride at least was starting to not care. He and Sam had promised each other 72 hours of no hunting, no research, and, unless a hospital was required, not even leaving the room. Sam had even agreed to no clothing unless answering the door. For weeks, Dean had been looking forward to a laptop-less Sam, room service, and massive amounts of sex. And, while he normally enjoyed arguing with Sammy, this particular argument was taking up time that could be spent doing much more pleasurable activities – like doing Sam, for example.

Dean sighed. He did know of one way that he could win this, without further discussion. He’d get to maintain his role as protector – which _was_ important – and indulge Sam at the same time. He’d been saving it for when he really wanted something… but it would be worth it to have this moment with Sammy.

After Dean’s sigh, Sam had been looking at him expectantly, like he was waiting for Dean to cave. Instead, Dean stepped closer, placing his hands on Sam’s hips and tilting his head up to look at Sam more directly.

“Look… You let me carry you,” Dean would have thought he’d have to keep Sam from interrupting here, but something in his tone must have piqued his husband’s curiosity, “… and I’ll try that thing that you asked me to do.”

Sam looked understandably skeptical.

“Dean, there are a lot of things I ask you to do that you never actually do. You’ll have to be more specific.” Dean looked away, unable to look Sam in the face if he was actually going to agree with this.

“I’ll – “ God, he couldn’t even say it. Was he blushing? “ _You know_. The thing you wanted after the werewolf in Mississippi.” He could actually feel Sam’s eyes narrow at him, studying him.

“Really?” Dean nodded. “Dean… if you really don’t want to…”

He looked back up at his brother – his best friend – his _lover_ and tightened his grip on those narrow hips as green eyes met uncertain hazel ones.

“You let me do this, and I’ll _try it_.” Sam nodded quickly, excitement sparking in his eyes. “I mean it, Sam, I don’t like it, and you stop.” Another nod and a promise as the wide, _gorgeous_ , dimpled smile that Dean unfortunately hadn’t seen since the ceremony made another appearance. Shit. If he’d known it would make Sam this happy, he’d have agreed to try it a while ago.

But, as it was, he hadn’t and yet it all worked out. Just like carrying Sam over the threshold worked just fine, _thank you very much_ , even if his husband being a gigantor had made it a bit difficult to get through the door.

Later that night, Dean was willing to admit that Sam’s request had also worked out just fine. More than fine, actually – they’d _definitely_ be doing that again in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> The rest of the Let's Get Gay Married! comment fic meme can be found here: http://bree-black.livejournal.com/84411.html
> 
> There are some fantastic entries, so please go check it out!


End file.
